An Angel on Earth
by a kiss of winter
Summary: The story of Spectra's death, all told from her point of view.


**Hey guys - long time no story. I know I promised a Skelfire, and that *is* in progress, but when I heard a certain song on my playlist, I was inspired~**

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_"Something's missing in me, I felt it deep within me_  
_As lovers left me to bleed alone, down here, love wasn't meant to be_  
_It wasn't meant to be for me..."_

_-Missing by Flyleaf_

I had always feared death as a child. I always wondered if I would die quickly or painfully. I hoped it would obviously be the latter. I also pondered when exactly I would pass away. In this day and age, illness was invading the land, although the life I was promised would protect me from that... or so I thought.

I had worked for a prince all of my life. I was a servant, me and my other seven siblings along with our parents. We slaved away each day for our supper - making little money, until that day I thought the young royal had an attraction to me. His name was Frederick Vondergeist and he was as charming as they came. He always tried to win me over, despite my heart was on another. He was a servant boy I worked with - a few years older than I. Right now... I can't remember his name. But he had brilliant ebony locks, eyes that looked the ocean, a sweet yet mischevious smile and skin as white as a ghost's. I grew up with him.

The prince Frederick always ignored me when I was younger. It seemed once I reached the teenage years he started eyeing after me.

Many said it was because I was what they call 'an ugly duckling' - however I knew different. I could tell what it was and my suspicions were proven right when one night, the prince had beckoned me to walk with him in the palace gardens one night. He was asked for my hand in marriage... and foolishly, I said yes.

I didn't love him, though.

He was conceited and rude - completely stuck up. I could never find room in my heart for someone like that.

The only reason I accepted his proposal for the sake of my family.

I was promised that all of us would be washed in riches if I married him... and my mother and father were struggling for every last dollar and crumb at the time.

What other choice did I have?

And now, I realize that it really was too good to be true.

I lay in the bed that should've been ours. A broken mirror frame is laying on the floor. Pain courses throughout my nerves - the ones that aren't numb with lifelessness, that is - and tears are brimming my eyes. I can't move. I can barely even find the strength to breathe. The prince did this to me. He told me I was 'the first' and that my family would be next. He revealed his entire plan to me. He'd kill me, my parents, my brothers and sisters... and blame it all on me. Say that I was insane. That I even tried to kill him, but I decided to take my own life instead. He was a sick and twisted monster - one with no heart at all.

My eyes are fluttering and thoughts of where I'll go in a few moments - when I pass away - run throughout my mind. Is Heaven real? I doubt I'll be damned in Hell for eternity - I was always the good child. I did my job, never did anything harmful to anyone, and followed the rules...

Mostly.

The nights I would sneak out to see that boy I grew up with was the only time I'd risk to get in trouble.

He was the one I truly loved. My heart belonged to him and he adored me so.

If only I could see him one last time.

My slowly beating heart aches for him right now, but in my state, I can't even find the sense to so much as lift my chest to breathe or find the strength to attempt and remove this glass from my icy pale skin. I want to run out of this bedroom, find the Prince, give him what he deserves, hopefully rescue my family...

But alas. It's impossible.

Some may say that nothing is impossible, but when you're on your death bed, everything is.

A wise man once said, _"A dying man can do nothing easy."_ and how true he was.

I want to think about everything good that happened to me, to give me hopes and to die with a smile on my face - although every little piece of me is slipping away. I feel the desire to try and save myself, but the other half of me wants to just let it happen.

I try to think of good things. My family. My job - despite it was hardworking, it made me content. The servant boy that was my lover.

However, the horrible things take over. The prince. His final words, "You're a stupid girl, _fraulein_, to think I ever had feelings for you.", and the way he brutally attacked me. The gut feeling I had it wasn't right to marry him. The fact I was no longer who I used to be anymore.

...

I was torn. Broken. Parts of me were stolen. I was nothing now.

Nothing but a dead, stupid girl.

**_~xoxo~_**

It's been approximately one hundred and fifty years since my death and I had never imagined that this would be my fate. I have to admit, I'd take the fiery depths of Hell anyday over this. I'm now what many might think of nothing but a myth. I'm... a ghost.

I have many few memories from when I was mortal, or what my fellow monsters call, '_a normie_' and it pains me everyday that I cannot recollect the past. I wish I could know about what I was before all of this. I've been cursed with immortality, which isn't all that it's cracked up to be. I write lies about myself in my diary, in hopes that my fantasy is actually true. Maybe I really was a princess and maybe there was a storm that killed my family and maybe I did have a long lost lover. I suppose I'll never actually know.

Believe me, I've tried. I can't find anyway, supernatural or not, to remember. That reminder always pains me - constantly, every day I spend my 'unlife' as they call it. So I waste away the nonstop hours with pointless gossip and journalism, the only thing that can bring me joy in this depressing world. Maybe it's because I'm dead, and that's why I view things so negative, or perhaps it really is emotions. I wonder if the deceased can feel. Not literally, of course, I've learned that, but the other way around. Inside, with feelings.

I've roamed the world for so long. And now I've slowed it down by going to high school, something I never did whilst I was alive. I was uneducated the whole time and learned everything from experience. You can only imagine what I've went through - living through such fast moving times. Even though I'm part of the dead, nonetheless, I'm affected and affiliate myself with the modern times, which - in my opinion - are rushed. No one ever pays attention to the important things in life, which is why I always sneak around, in the little crevices and cracks no one bothers to think of. Seems that's my only upside being a ghost. I can see other things no one else can and go places they can't either.

...But I still wonder how this is possible.

Not how I died, I know that was gruesome, because of the scars I have on my torso, but how exactly I'm one of the living dead.

...I suppose that's a forever unanswered question, though.

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**Ohhh, wow, I need to stop with the sad fics. Don't... don't ask how I thought this up. I don't even know how I managed to write this. I guess I just really like the depressing side of Spectra, the side that's not ever really touched. Whatever. Could y'all spare a review? *puppy eyes***


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